melody of lies
by sophichka
Summary: Two steps backwards, one step forwards, to the same melody of lies, hurt, deceit, unrequited love.


You know that she wasn't meant for you, this girl who is so vibrant, so full of life, so much more than you will ever be. She was never meant to be trapped with you and your changing, yet never aging, body. She was meant to roam free, left on earth, left to follow her destiny in a way that she never could with you.

So you let her go, you left her to marry Rory, but you couldn't help but turn up _one last time_, just to see her, make sure she was happy, because if she wasn't, you would take her away, and _never bring her back_. But you couldn't help offering to take them with you, taking Rory as well if it meant that you could be with her _every single day. _You weren't prepared for the way your heart would break every single time she kissed Rory, hugged Rory, touched Rory.

You _wanted her_, every single part of her, mind, body and soul. You wanted her to be yours, not to have to hold your tongue every time an _"I love you" _nearly slipped out, you wanted to punch Rory for _daring_ to touch her, kiss her, but she was _his_ although your heart was _hers_.

So you threw yourself into this absurd _thing_ with River Song, reasoning that if Amy could break your heart, you could sure as hell break hers. But, you weren't breaking hers, because this facade that you put on was so _damn realistic_ that she thought you were happy, and seeing her best friend happy made her happier than anything else (maybe even _Rory_) ever could.

But you would be a liar if you said you were happy, if you said it had healed your heart, this absurd dance you were doing with River Song. Two steps backwards, one step forwards, to the same melody of lies, hurt, deceit, _unrequited love_.

But one day you falter, maybe to take too many steps backwards, too many steps forwards, maybe she sees you looking at Amy and hears the music change to one of hope as she argues with Rory. So she leaves you, your cheek stinging from her slap, and she runs away, screaming something about libraries. You know that will be the last time you see her, but somehow you can't bring yourself to care. It leaves you free to continue staring after Amy, the _most beautiful girl in the universe._

It happens one day, she snaps, she screams at Rory that _"it's over"_, and you, of course, take her side, throwing Rory out of the Tardis, and taking her to file divorce papers. You think that it's finally over, you've finally won the battle that was never really a battle, finally vanquished the one that had protected her forever.

But, you had thought that before, when Rory died. You had thought that finally she was yours, forever, with no Rory there to _hold you back_ and stop you from realising the only dream you ever had. _Amy&You_, forever and always.

You didn't think that there would be nights when Amy would wake you, screaming Rory's name, waking from whatever nightmare she was having. You didn't think you'd find her crying her heart out because the _only dream she ever had _had been shattered, beyond her repair.

You didn't think twice when she told you what had happened when you had left her alone for _five minutes_. You didn't stop to think what _eternal life _meant for her, your only thought was that it meant the two of you really could be together _forvever and always_.

But life isn't always that simple, especially not where you're involved.

So she leaves you, and you let her because, truthfully, all you've ever wanted for her is for her to be happy. And, hell, she might never be another Rose, but Rose was yours in another life, not this one, not the next, because Amy is all you want now.

So when you find her in that bar, short short skirts, high high heels, cigarette and vodka in hand, you make her leave, grabbing her hand and forcefully dragging her back to the Tardis. She screams, curses you, swears at the top of her voice, but nobody helps her, because around these parts it's not an uncommon sight to see a man dragging a woman in a short short skirt and high high heels, and truthfully, it's better not to get involved.

So you clean her up, sober her up, and persuade her to change into her pyjamas, before pushing her into the bed that used to be hers, and always will be hers, if you have your way.

Because you might not have made the best start, but you had forever to persuade her to love you.

* * *

**A/N: Well, that sucked. Meh, I'll post it anyway.**


End file.
